The scope of Fetch the Bolt Cutters' meaning, its infinite feeling, will likely take years to fully absorb. An album like this doesn't come often, and an artist like Apple will never come again — she's given us an invaluable piece of light, a reminder to stay alive and awake and angry and kind.

While Lynn's aesthetic development occasionally results in the project reaching pop-heights not in its reach before, it also blurs the line between this and Fohr's other projects.

As Benton shifts his focus from big rock choruses to a grounding, direct connectivity, Lost in the Country cements Trace Mountains' evolution into a type of modern Americana.

Song for Our Daughter is a touching recording, and it demonstrates that, no matter the sonic style she chooses to play with, Marling remains at the top of her game.

The New Abnormal is not a bad record, but it is a frustrating one, made by a band that feels pulled in a dozen different directions.

While these haunting mood-pieces aren't exactly uplifting, they have a melancholic beauty that's comforting in this troubling times. Even if we're lonely, we're in it together.

Titans of Creation boasts complex guitar and bass work, mechanically precise drumming, powerhouse vocals and crisp, clear production that still manages to leave the razor-sharp edge intact, with songs that will be exciting to hear live.

Totalling more than 80 minutes of chilling ambient, Ghosts VI is as unsettling as it is dazzling.

McBryde stretches musically and melodically to incorporate country, pop and alternative rock sounds, while her lyrics are brazen, badass and unexpectedly beautiful.

Siggelkow's Born Again is fearlessly exposed, touching on emotions in the most direct way — an infectious, wondrous full-length debut for Ellis.

A fascinating album where creative impulses and naiveté are filtered through a strong sense of aesthetics with newfound confidence. It's the sound of a unique artist finding her footing and stepping in the zone.

It's a pleasurable, sun-drenched record — the work of a band who've found their voice, louder and clearer than before.

It is not surprising that Empress Of has produced yet another gorgeous and memorable collection of songs, yet her consistency does not diminish the unique achievements of this album. This is a perfect album for finding comfort and beauty in the things and people closest to you.

It's more of a steady refinement than a great leap forward. The wait may have been long, but the results are mature and compassionate enough to justify it.

The stuffed effort could be Lil Baby's attempt to showcase his growth. But one mark of artistic maturity is exercising restraint — less is often more.

Barry and Nealis recorded Holiday in 20-minute stretches while their newborn daughter slept, but despite this time restriction, the record doesn't feel urgent. ... And with her incomparable honeyed vocals at the helm, Barry crafts one of the finest folk albums of the year so far.

On 2018's King of Cowards they proved they were a truly forward-thinking doom act, and on Viscerals they've proved it wasn't a fluke. They just need to shed a few more layers before they are ready to assume their final form.

On Migration Stories, M. Ward doesn't change the way he delivers his material as much as he alters the way it reverberates once it hits you.

It's the sound of all of pop history cast into the void of space and sent careening back, transmuted by some unknown force. The ghosts of lost icons hurtle through these songs — passing by in molecular form are the sparkling ethers of Prince and Bowie, the curdled spectre of Genesis P-orridge.

A spectacular followup to 2017's critically acclaimed Drunk. ... It Is What It Is manifests as a beautiful ebb and flow of emotional states, philosophical musings and plain old comedy. It doesn't drown itself in existential dread or proffer any clear-cut solutions, but just exists on its own plane.

Despite its "six years in the making" descriptor, Allegiance and Conviction feels more like an EP of collected experiments toward a new, more realized work. A satisfying stop along the way to the main attraction.

If You're Dreaming showcases Burch's ability to communicate a wide range of feelings through her music, from the sultry melancholy of "Jacket" to the tender reassurance of album closer "Here With You." This record is perfect for closing your eyes and retreating inwards, letting Burch's dreamy melodies guide you through some afternoon introspection.

Though Gambino takes himself a bit too seriously at times, 3.15.20's pleasant moments make up for his missteps.

On Cenizas, Nicolas Jaar unveils a static but emotional masterpiece, an album that doesn't challenge the listener as much as it invites them into his alien, meditative, astonishing world.

Largely focused around his grandfather's piano with decaying tape treatments, Craig's layered vocals deliver a strong, unwavering response to the chaos in his life, while also exemplifying the vulnerabilities of being human. Red Sun Through Smoke is a perfect record for these times, as well.

If you've been following the quartet since day one, Snapshot of a Beginner feels like both a victory lap and another bold step forward in the race.

925 is a cohesive, enjoyable, drug-infused debut about two longtime friends trying to make sense of being young in a dreary world. Despite a few hiccups, the record is a moody and exciting treat by an act to keep your eyes and ears on.

The fearless formula, the genre-blending, the artistic craft on display marks Reyez's latest as one of the better albums in an already interesting 2020. Before Love Came to Kills shines a light on homegrown talent done great.